Could Have Killed Her
by PercyJacksonTheAwesome
Summary: Clint woke up after breaking free of Loki's control, and he was instantly hit with a wave of regret and horror with what he did, and what he almost did. He could have killed her. The woman he loved. Natasha Romanoff. Real cheesy Clintasha please R&R!


**A/N: This is my first Clint/Natasha story, guys, and I'm really excited! I saw the Avengers like a month or so ago and I finally got around to writing a fanfiction. I KNOW this is REAL cheesy, but I hope you guys like it, and I LOOOVE reviews! Let me know how I did! And stay tuned for more Clintasha fics to come!**

He began breathing heavily, finally coming to. He had been under too long, with no control of himself. The memories had just begun coming back, and he became disgusted with himself at what he did. He almost…no, no, no, it was coming back. He began to fight back, not willing to let it take over him again. As he fought, he felt a light pressure on his arm. He began to relax again, and he saw her, watching over him. He wondered if she'd been there the whole time.

His whole body relaxed, and she began to undo his binds. He got down, rubbing his wrists. He didn't even think his wrists had been bound, but it felt like they had; it was habit. He sat down on the bed, and she sat down next to him.

"Fight through it, Clint," she said. "I know you're strong enough to."

"I will," he said. There was an angry pause. "I'm gonna kill him."

Natasha looked at him. He couldn't really help staring a little bit. She had those cold, hard eyes that cut right through him. He knew her better than anyone else, and she knew him better than anyone else. He knew everything that would make her happy, set her off, make her stay, or make her leave forever. And she knew the same about him. She trusted him with her life, and he trusted his with her.

He loved her, and he always would.

But she didn't know. And he was afraid to show it, for fear that it wouldn't be returned. He would never admit it unless he was completely sure she loved him back. Or else he would ruin everything.

So he stayed quiet as Natasha looked at him with those cold, lovely eyes.

"We all want to kill him, Clint," she said. "All of us."

"It's more than that," Clint said. "He took over my brain. I had no control. Do you know what that's like, Nat? He was controlling me. He sent me in to kill everyone, and I almost…I almost killed you."

His voice choked up on those last words, almost not being able to get them out. He put his head in his hands, not wanting his emotions to get the better of him.

"That wasn't you, Clint," Natasha said. "I know you wouldn't do that."

"But I could've," he said. "I could've killed you. I could've killed everyone. No one's ever going to trust me again."

"Clint, listen to me," Natasha said, looking him straight in the eye. "That wasn't you. You are no different than the Clint Barton we all know and love. I don't know what's got you so worked up."

Clint looked at her. Oh, if only she knew. Things would be different. He loved her; he wanted her every day. He wanted to hold her close, run his fingers through those red curls, whisper softly into her ear, protect her with everything he had. He knew she could take care of herself, but even the tough Black Widow needed something to protect her every now and again.

"I…" Clint started, not exactly sure how to phrase this. "I didn't want to hurt you," his voice dropped to a whisper. "I was scared to death that I would lose you. That you would die by my hands. And I couldn't do anything about it."

Natasha was silent for a moment. "Clint…" she said after awhile.

"Natasha, I'm tired of hiding it," he interrupted her. "I…I should've let you know sooner."

"Let me know what, Clint?"

And then he kissed her. He brought his lips to hers, kissing her slowly, sweetly, passionately, as a kiss should be. He brought his hand up and ever so gently caressed her face with his fingertips, letting them linger there. And to his great shock, she kissed him back. She moved her lips along with his, and snaked her hands behind his neck, pulling him ever so slightly closer. This surprised Clint more than anything he'd ever seen her do in his lifetime, and he'd seen her to some strange things for the sake of their mission.

He finally drew away from her, looking deep into those blue-green eyes, looking for some sort of emotion. Inside, he saw a glint of what might've been happiness, or delight, with no hint of anything hostile.

"Nat…I love you," he said softly. "Always have, always will. I just didn't want to ruin anything. And then I almost–"

"Ssh," Natasha interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. She leaned in close, whispering in his ear, "It's alright, Clint. It's going to be alright. That love is not unrequited."

And with that, she kissed him, just as he had kissed her. And at that moment, Clint Barton knew with all of his heart that he shouldn't have worried; Natasha Romanoff loved him, too.

So he kissed her back, letting out everything that had been bottled up for years.


End file.
